


One Night Stand

by Airie



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: Assamite, F/M, malkavian - Freeform, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:39:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1209664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airie/pseuds/Airie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vampire the Masquerade fanfiction starring my two characters. Rita - Assamite warrior, recently dispossessed. Victor - Malkavian anarch, recently out of a barony. A chance meeting between the two after a rather violent departure a few years back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night Stand

The human kept talking, trying to act suave. It was terrible at it.

“It”, “the human”. Rita just realized she didn’t label the mortal as “that douchebag” or “the asshole”. No, “it”. Deprived of any status and meaning in her book. A vessel. Food. Gross, but necessary.

 _“Am I that detached?”_ She wondered, remembering to blink and nod every once in a while to keep that… douchebag’s tongue flapping. 

And it flapped, trying to seduce her. And if it… he thought that sort of talk would seduce any self respecting woman, then he must think very little of them. No, stop, cut that feminist bullshit. You’re not a woman anymore. You’re a corpse with a thirst for blood. 

“You know…” He murmured, taking her hand into his and looking her deep in the eyes. She noticed he had mascara on. What the actual…?! “I wouldn’t be talking to you if I didn’t think you had class, not like all the other girls.”

She smiled, barely able to restrain herself from a cynical grimace. Did the bastard really expect her to believe that? Then again, her role in the charade was to pretend being less intelligent and sober from her actual self.

“Woow…” She paused, her red lips slightly parted. “Every other guy I’ve met just assumed I’m a slut. But you’re different.”

Actually, she was a slut. It was a spiteful label for women like herself, but she embraced the term and felt comfortable with it. 

“I’m a gentleman.” He replied, his knee nudged hers.

Ha! Every time she heard that line it came from a patronizing prick. It was the same as with people who before saying something offensive needed to clear their conscience with the obligatory ‘I’m not racist/homophobic/sexist/whatever, but…’

What did she expect anyway? This was a nightclub, she was wearing her trashiest dress, it was obvious just what caliber of people she was going to attract. Certainly not someone who would like to have an in-depth conversation about the very fabric of life. 

Unfortunately, she was the predator, pretending to be the prey. It sounded terribly cliché, but she had no better comparison. Why did it have to be such a tedious game? Why couldn’t this be simple and honest? ‘Hey, want to have sex?’ ‘Sure, I need to blow off some steam, let’s go.’ Ah, but what was the fun in that?

She was dwelling on this for far too long, she needed to seal the deal before he notices her calculating stare.

“Yeah, and I’m a lady!” She said, pretending to gullibly swallow up all his bullshit. “I have… class! But that doesn’t mean I can’t be spontaneous and have some fun, right?” She finished with a rising inflection.

They both smiled innocently.

\---

She pushed him into the bathroom stall. He closed the lid and made himself comfortable, straddling his laps. One stall next to them a couple was already busy.

He wasn’t much into redheads, but this one was grade A poon. The red sequin dress she wore uncovered a lot of her tan. Maybe she was a bit too tall and fit, but that ass and those bouncy tits made up for it.

“Right where I want you…” She purred, leaning against the side of the stall, eying him strangely… hungrily.

She got to her knees and unfastened his belt, a real pro. She needn’t much effort to free his swollen ego and just test what a hard bargain she got herself. Such a nice girl, not selfish at all, unlike some other teasing bitches.

Rita smiled, seeing the human… man melting in her grasp. So simple. With the corner of her eye she noticed a used condom on the floor, right next to her ankle. She made no comment on how low she fell, it was time to focus on herself for a change.

“You have a natural talent.” He murmured, when she got up and kissed the side of his neck, with her hands still busy.

“Oh, you have no idea!” She giggled next to his ear.

He felt a prick at the side of his neck, did the bitch just bite him…? Whoa…! What the…?

She firmly pressed her lips to his skin, preventing precious blood from wasting. His blood was good, clean, no drugs or alcohol. The night was young after all. She maintained a slow, steady pace. She knew that the human would associate the sudden rush with a good handjob, not a vampire feeding on him. Besides, there was risk his heart couldn’t withstand the shock of her taking his blood to fast.

Speaking of the heart, it started to resist. Just a few more gulps and she’s done. His erection started to soften as well, blood had to revert to a more important organs, after all. She quickly withdrew and licked the wound, closing the marks her fangs left.

She pried herself off her victim and stretched, whipping her hair back. Vitae already made itself at home in her stomach, from there flowing into her veins, giving her warmth only recent feeding could. She smiled with pleasure, giving the human one last glance. He was barely conscious, with his pants all the way to his ankles. A stream of saliva escaped his mouth. Indeed he had mascara on, as some of it rubbed off.

 _“Wow… I’m really getting too sleazy even for myself.”_ She thought.

But there was no time to waste on pondering another irrelevant victim in another gross nightclub. She had plans for the night. Less pleasant than seducing a human into following her somewhere private.

“Hey…” She heard a male voice from the next stall. “You got a rubber on you, mate?”

“Sure.” She said, reaching into her prey’s breast pocket.

Lo and behold, she fished out a box of good brand condoms. Well, at least the bastard wasn’t that cheap. She slipped them under the side of the stall.

Right, she had to get moving. But first, she had to wash her hands. 

\---

“What the FUCK?!” Vinnie gasped, seeing the guy he shot stand up.

This couldn’t be happening; he shot the fucker right between the eyes! But somehow, he was standing, his face turned to Vinnie, on the forehead was the black hole where the bullet penetrated the skull. The eyes rolled and set on him, burning red.

“I shot you! You’re dead!” He screamed, pointing the gun, a handy silenced pistol, at the would-be cadaver.

“Well, funny thing. You did shoot me, but about the killing part… Someone beat you to it a long time ago.” Victor smiled morbidly.

He snorted and spat blood. The spittle rung metallic on the concrete floor; he spat the bullet out. He then stretched.

“I wouldn’t recommend shooting me again, Vinnie.” He warned, seeing the thug’s finger caress the trigger. “I just brought this jacket.”

With unnatural speed he was right before Vin. He punched the human straight in the gut, ripping the pistol out of his grasp. Vinnie toppled, his massive frame fell to the floor. For a second everything went dark, since the thug hit his head hard.

Victor smiled, that was a nice gun, Heckler & Koch P2000. Some called it “girly” due to its small size, but the boomstick was precise and had enough impact. Surprising Vinnie hadn’t had tastes for anything bigger. He was apparently confident in his own equipment. The vampire snickered, deciding to keep the handgun. But first, he needed to test it out…

Vin screamed when his knees were shot, though the shots weren’t heard; the silencer was of decent quality. 

“FUCK!”

“Oh, shut up.” Victor scoffed annoyed. “Shouldn’t have tried to screw me over in the first place.

The mortal rolled to his stomach and tried to crawl away, but Victor sat on his back and nonchalantly nudged the back of his head with the pistol. Vinnie was smart enough to freeze.

“I swear, de Noir, you’re making a huge mistake if you think you can mess with us.”

“Uh… Don’t think so. Remember, who just a minute ago headshot me?” Victor asked a rhetorical question. “Here’s the deal. Your boss probably knows my reputation back in Europe. He knows what a messed up sack of shit I am. So I’ll skip the threats. You tell me everything I want to know about your operations and I’ll let you crawl out of here alive. You’ll be dead to your boss anyway, so I don’t care. Deal?”

Vinnie spat a whole litany of obscenities, to Victor’s amuse. You gotta love those humans.

“I’m dead serious.” He interrupted, moving his foot away from the growing puddle of blood. The boots were also new. “So, what will it be? Either way, you will talk. It’s up to you how much of an ordeal will that be for me.”

The human considered his options and it was clear he had no choice. Victor de Noir… a genius and psycho from some small country in the ass back of Europe. A few years ago he decided to move to the US, and he’s been progressively moving westward, fucking up everything in every state he visited. Some people thought he was hired by their enemies, but it soon turned out that the man had no fixed plan and simply enjoyed wrecking havoc for the sheer thrill of it.

This wasn’t a man you wanted to fuck with. Last man who did, ended up… Vinnie only heard stories, but his boss, a man of iron guts and will, puked in his office when he saw the photos from the scene. They said the body was somehow… minced. Fucking de Noir had only a cleaver, and managed to hack a man with it like lamb chops for supper.

“Fine…” He said, sweat poured into his eyes, causing them to itch mercilessly.

Victor listened and nodded, though the thug couldn’t see him. When the puddle of blood from Vinnie’s knees was twice the man’s length, he stopped his confession.

“Fine, okay. Congrats.” Victor yawned, getting up. Fuck, his soles got dirty. “I’m going. You do whatever it is you want. Nice talking to you, Vin.”

“You’re not letting it slide.” The human laughed, like only a man at peace with death could.

“Why, are you calling me a liar?” Victor spun around with grace and smiled innocently.

“You won’t have me telling anyone you survived a shot in the head. You’re not letting me live, but you won’t do it directly.” Vin rose on his elbows to look up at the bastard. “I know lunatics like you.”

Victor smirked. Good, this one at least knew he was done for. He hated when humans fooled themselves that they’re going to survive an encounter with him.

“True. You’re not going to live to tell anyone about it. At first I wanted to set this whole shithole on fire.” He widely gestured at the old warehouse. “And leave you inside, crawling for your life… Eventually choking on the smoke and burning alive. But, as a consolidation prize…” He stepped forward, his heavy boot was next to his victim’s head. “I’ll make it quick.” He said, stomping Vinnie’s head into a bloody mash.

Victor was of medium weight, tall and elegant in frame. He wasn’t feeble in appearance, but his posture hadn’t given away his real strength. Enough to lift and throw a medium-sized car or punch through a concrete wall. Potence was a helluva Discipline! That, and a few others he wasn’t given with the blood. Though, Obfuscate and Auspex also had their uses… Not to mention the most fun discipline of all. Because, come on, who wouldn’t want to waltz into someone’s brain and completely fuck it up?

He cursed, seeing how far up his legs the blood and gray matter went. Ah, but it was worth it. He had new info he could use in all sorts of demented ways… But first, there was some arson to do.

\---

The red sequin dress was left at her temporary residence. For this meeting, Rita wore something more comfortable and practical. She waited patiently for her target to appear, hiding in the shadows at the run-down industrial part of town.

She heard a rattle. That must have been her, the one she stalked for the past nights. She emerged from under the layers of rubble, paying no mind to her tattered clothing. She was pale, her muddy hair in a mess. And it would be hard to mistake her for a human even from this distance.

That one was lost. Taken over by the Beast. It was female before, but now it was only a clump of hunger and rage. Nothing any sensible Kindred would allow to live. Exactly what Rita was looking for. She found trace of the thing just recently, following headlines in newspapers speaking of grisly murders occurring in this part of the city. She added one to two, and here she was.

Why did she give a fuck in the first place? No idea. Ever since she severed all ties with her Clan, she travelled the world in search of… something. Anything. She was still young, but already experienced and… bored. Tired of wasting her unlife on trivial pleasures and meaningless thrills. She wanted a cause, apparently.

Was this a part of her plan? To root out those of her species, who were unfit to exist? Caitiff, Thin-Bloods, evil bastards and those taken by the Beast? Mayhap… Shit, the thing was on a move!

She tensed and jolted from her hiding place. She was next to her target in a second, but the thing was cunning as it was ugly. It spun around and grabbed her by the waist, throwing the surprised redhead at the massive steel doors of a long-closed factory. 

Rita snarled, peeling off the bent metal. Okay let’s play rough, bitch!

\---

There was the moaning sound of bending metal. Out here, at this time of night? Victor had a bad feeling about this, but went to have a look nonetheless, leaving the warehouse to slowly drown in flames.

He ran past the loading bay and jumped over the fence, then across a parking lot and into a small alley between two now shut seafood factories. There was a fight, blood on the wind. And it wasn’t human blood.

He looked over the corner and stood dumbstruck. He’d recognize that mane of curly red hair everywhere!

Rita dodged the frenzied vampire’s claws. What was it before, Gangrel? Possibly, though Protean wasn’t a guarded Discipline. Fine, let’s use Disciplines, then! She was about to use one of her nasty tricks, but then her opponent froze, bent its head back and howled. Howled in a way that made her skin feel like it was pierced by thousands of burning needles.

She staggered back, covering her ears, but it did her no good. Using it to its advantage, the frenzied one attacked, biting into her throat. Hell, no! She was the diablerist here! She hadn’t tried to push the attacker off, no. She embraced it and gave some of her very special brew. Vintage Quietus.

“Grarrgghh!” It pulled itself away, its lips already started to melt away. The creature fell on the concrete, tossing around and growling.

“That’s acid blood you just drank.” Rita explained, pressing her palm to her neck. “Ah, but why do I bother? You probably don’t understand words anymore, don’t you?”

She spent too much vitae on turning her blood into acid and now healing the bite on her neck. She hadn’t planned on it, but she decided to suck the filthy thing dry. But it had no intention of letting her vanquish her thirst. The Assamite prepared to use the basic power of Quietus, eradicating all sound in case her opponent tries that howl again, but its larynx was burned.

Great, it was time to dig in! She approached nonchalantly the tossing and struggling thing. But she underestimated the power of her tainted blood. When she grabbed it by the hair… the head came off from the body clean; the neck was that quickly consumed by the acid.

“Gross…!” She hissed, throwing it on the ground, observing it fall into dust as well as the body. “Well, shit. Just my luck.”

She smelled something burning. Turning around she saw glow and smoke in the distance. A fire. Instinctively, she felt like running. Place was bound to attract the authorities soon.

“I got a car parked nearby!” She heard someone call out to her. Wait, that voice…

Victor. In the most inconvenient of times their paths crossed… yet again.

“Well? What are we waiting for, then?” She grunted, not giving away her surprise.


End file.
